Repairing Bonds
by RR-Roza-Robertson
Summary: *SEQUEL TO 'BROKEN LETTERS'* Rose had left things on a bad note, once again, when she set off to end things once and for all. Dealing with betrayal and heartache-not to mention her friends believing she's dead-Rose finally stops running and starts fighting.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

I fought with a fierce intensity and cold focus, blocking the fists and kicks that were aimed to render me unconscious. My arms burned with the weight of exhaustion that pulled at me, trying to make my moves sluggish but I fought against that. I didn't stop, only getting stronger and faster. It was only when a hard knock to my head, which blurred my vision for a few seconds, allowed me the extra dose of anger and fury that I needed to get the extra push against my attackers. I came at them with controlled rage pulsing through my veins.

I was down to my last attacker, finally having them pinned as I punched and delivered elbows that dizzied them, arms up, trying to block the onslaught of my attack.

"That's it, stop!" I paused mid-punch, fist centimeters from delivering the final blow which would have knocked them out. I glanced up to where my trainer stood a while away, voice crossing the distance easily.

"What—why? I was doing so well!" I asked as I stood up from my straddled position. I leant a hand to the man I'd held to the ground, who'd accepted it grudgingly, stumbling slightly as he made his way over to the medic.

My trainer walked over to me. He was lean, lithe and one of the most patient men I've known to date. How I managed to find him as my trainer was hard to tell. He had buzzed brown hair, fair skin, whiskey colored eyes and was slightly taller than me, freckles dotting his skin. If you saw him in everyday life, with the baggy jeans and hoodies—no matter the season—you'd never picture him to be as skilled as he was. That was the whole point, I supposed.

"Yes, you were. And if you did any better you would have killed Sean." I went to protest, to say that I could control myself before I noticed the six other students, either limping away or resting back on the grass, groaning and in pain. Control was definitely something I needed to better myself with.

"Sorry," I bit out, face with the same mask I've had since I arrived.

"There's no need to apologize, you did well. If that was four Strigoi, instead of six Dhampir's, you would have survived. However, I want you back here with a mat in half an hour, Belle, not a minute later." I nodded, calm mask completely enforced, although I was annoyed.

I'd been training at this tiny institution for the last five months, living in the South. I'd found my trainer, Wyatt Watts, the last time I went out hunting. It wasn't my proudest moment, but it was probably one of the best to happen, as I'd gained him as a mentor.

By hunting, I meant that I'd believed that, to regain my strength, the best way was to seek out the Strigoi and kill them. I believed, and in a way still do, that to gain the skill I simply had to fight more of them. The longer I survived against them, I had more a chance at winning this thing between Nathan and me. However, that night I almost did die—almost lost completely.

_It was raining, and I now realize how stupid that sounds because _of course it is_. Of course I would die in battle with the somber sound of rain pounding around me, completely alone. To be honest, even I could have told you that it was going to end that way. People can speak about their fate and destiny but that was _my fate_, it was _my destiny_. To fight until some undead bitch caught me unaware and bit me. _

_That's what happened this night. I'd been trying to search for some lead, something on Nathan and who was behind the idea to kill off the bloodlines. At this point I'd found none. I was getting frustrated and I was still weak. I'd left the court only four months prior to this fight, but I'd made a name for myself. I'd headed to LA, where I knew many Strigoi roamed. Lots of places to hide and many unnamed faces that they could kill or turn. It was one of the placed Lissa and I had avoided when I ran away with her at the age of fifteen. _

_This night I'd taken on too much. With not enough sleep or food, I'd been cornered in a dirty alleyway, backed into a corner by three Strigoi who believed I'd killed enough of their kind. I was fighting and fighting, blind rage taking over every punch and hit I delivered. It would have been enough, I would have been able to stop them, to stake and kill them, if only one hadn't knocked the weapon from my hand, sending it flying underneath a dumpster as I hit the wet pavement. I was pinned, locked beneath one bastard as the bitch held tight to the sides of my head. Her blood red eyes stared into mine with elation, having believed that she'd finally caught me. _

"_This is brilliant," she hissed, hands forcing my head to the side as I closed my eyes, feeling her breath on my neck, "now to kill…or turn. We'll let you guess." I felt her fangs brush against my skin and braced myself for the initial pain of the bite but knew that it would be lost to euphoria. The only blessing that came with the bite of a Strigoi—or a Moroi. _

_It was sudden, feeling the fangs pierce slightly, that brief pain. I waited for the euphoria, but instead gained her body collapsing on top of me. I grunted, the puncture on my neck now throbbing. There was a loud hiss before another body fell on top of me, my arms now free. I glanced up as the bodies were kicked off, the weight disappearing, the man I now knew as Wyatt held a hand out for me. I frowned, however I noticed the stance of a guardian. I clasped his hand and allowed him to pull me up. _

"_Are you alright?" the anger still coursed through me, and I shook slightly, but I was alright. _

"_Who are you?" I demanded instead. He pursed his lips, arms crossing over his chest. _

"_The man that just saved your life." He snapped back, however not unkindly. I pressed my lips together to hold back a retort before nodding. _

"…_then, thanks." I said after a silence, limping over to the dumpster and pushing it out of the way to grab the only stake I owned at this point in time. _

"_You've been making a name for yourself in a way that guardians shouldn't." I stood up straighter, turning to look back at him. _

"_I don't know if I am a guardian anymore," one eyebrow raised, as if in shock. _

"_Rose Hathaway, rogue…Doesn't have quite the same ring to it." For a fleeting moment of worry, I thought that maybe Lissa or Dimitri had sent a guardian after me before I lifted my chin. _

"_Maybe not, but Rose Mazur does." He smirked and nodded. _

"_True, but how good does it sound when you're dead on the side of the road, or perhaps turned into Strigoi and chasing down the ones you claim to be protecting." I hesitated in retaliating. _

"_Why do you care?" I hissed, a deep bitterness covering my tone. _

"_I care because I agree with what you're doing, but I don't agree with the way you're going about it." I bit my lip. It was obvious he was skilled, simply noticeable with the way he stood, hand gripped around his stake, never faulting in being alert and aware. _

"_So what are you going to do about it?" I pushed the fringe out of my face, the rain making it stick to my forehead. _

"_I want to train you. To make you better than you are and ever have been. And then, when you're finished, I want to help you." I didn't know if I could trust him, but he was offering me everything I needed to get through this. He was offering me what I set off for; a chance to make myself better than I was and people that I could fight with. People that I won't have to promise to protect or blame myself for their deaths, if they do die. _

"_First, we need to get rid of your old identity." _

When I'd later asked just how he'd found me, it turned out that there was a long line of bodies, with exactly my description, that the Strigoi had been killing. It seemed that, without knowing exactly who I was, a bounty had been set for me, to stop me at any cost. I'd followed him to a dumpster not a few blocks away and found a girl who had an uncanny resemblance to me, same hair (if a little more kept) and almost the same amount of tattoos on the back of her neck, slightly marred by the bite marks that littered it. He'd taken my duffle bag and wallet off of me, dragged the girl to a less hidden place in the alley before chucking them down beside her. Before I could save my bag, he'd poured some oil onto both the girl and the last of my items and set it aflame.

In a way I hadn't really forgiven him for that. The stuff in that duffle bag was the last that I had of my past and while I hadn't exactly taken much to remind me of the pain, a couple of pictures to get me through were in there.

He'd set strict rules about his training: to forget about my past as it was no longer mine; to follow his orders as they were in my best interest; and to let my past think that I was dead. The last one had been the hardest to follow.

As per Adrian's request, I'd been calling him every week at least once since I'd left, to let him know that I was alive. I'd told him where I was on the premise that he didn't tell the others, so when a couple weeks passed without my phone call he began to search for me. By the anguish that had escaped through the bond, I'd realized that they'd found the body of the girl in the alley. It was odd, watching your funeral first hand. More than odd, it was excruciating even. I'd spent that night sitting awake, watching through the bond as the ragtag group I'd once called my family fell apart.

It was two months after my supposed death, and I'd been calling Adrian's home number every week, just like I'd used to. However, from a different payphone each time which I'd made sure they couldn't trace, and without speaking. I'd simply assumed that they'd never guess it was me. I'd been wrong.

It was an off week, training had been hard and stressful and none of Wyatt's students and I had gotten along, so I'd called for the second time in four days. Adrian had answered, sounding tired and weary and like he'd aged too much too quickly. I'd closed my eyes against the onslaught of pain I'd felt, wanting to speak to him, to tell him that I'm okay and everything was going to be okay. Only I knew that I couldn't.

"I don't know who this is, but just cut it out!" he'd growled, with a fury in his voice I'd never heard, nor would have believed could come from him. I winced when he'd slammed the phone down, hanging up on me.

I'd rested my head in my hands, hoping to stop the pain. I glanced up when, not even five minutes later, the phone rang. It took me to take in a deep breath to answer, letting it out slowly when I heard her voice.

"Rose? Rose, if this is you could you just answer me!" she'd whispered angrily, obviously trying to not allow Adrian to hear her.

"Listen, I know that it's you and I know that you're still alive. All I ask is that if you aren't going to tell us you're alive than just stop calling, you're only making it worst for him and everyone else. We miss you, Rose, but we can't take it anymore. Let us be happy and move on." And then she hung up, a lot less violently than Adrian had but it hurt just the same. She was right. All through this I'd been thinking of myself, I didn't realize the pain that it would be giving them to keep calling.

So I stopped.

.

.

.

**Hey guys, this is the first chapter to the sequel of Broken Letters. I hope you like the beginning but I am sorry that it took so long!**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

After an hour of meditation, which Wyatt had thought necessary to combat against the anger that I still held for Nathan, I'd been dismissed for dinner and bed. I did exactly that, despite the layer of sweat coating my skin I headed inside to the cafeteria.

Wyatt had found an old abandoned prison, though many of the buildings were unusable, over the years he'd managed to clean up a sleeping area, taking the prison beds into one room for the men, the other for the females, as well as fixing the showers. Wards had been set up around the perimeter, and other useable rooms were used for storage. All training, whether it was raining or not, was done outside.

I entered the cafeteria, out of the twenty-five students that trained here, only around fifteen were eating, others either in bed, training alone or patrolling. I ignored the students that sat here just like they ignored me. The people in this room were mainly here because they had to be. They were either rogues who were furthering their training, or guardians with nowhere to go. To be quite honest, I didn't try to get to know why they were here. I didn't want to. I was here for a specific reason and I wasn't going to get caught up in friendships again. The people here knew me as Belle, the skilled guardian gone rogue after her charge died. Wyatt believed that it was too dangerous to let people know who I was. He took great measures to do so.

New ID, new birth certificate, new age, passport, new hairstyle and we'd had some of the tattoos on the back of my neck removed. When he said that he was deleting my identity, he meant it. I'd kept tally though, from my time, of how many Strigoi I'd slain by marks on my stake. In a way I couldn't blame him for doing this. In the last five months I've grown stronger and more skilled than I ever was before. He's taught me to control my anger, to use it in a way that would benefit me rather than distract me. Without the complete distraction of wondering how the others were, wondering if they're alive while trying to keep the block up with the bond, I'd been much more focused.

It took a while to get back into a healthy eating pattern, but with Wyatt enforcing breakfast, lunch and dinner, it had quickly become routine again. In fact, I was eating better than I was before, the only food available being slabs of meat and rabbit food. It gave us the boost we needed without the processed crap.

Training every single day except Sunday was grueling at first. He trained like a drill sergeant, starting with laps to 'warm us up' then going into one hundred burpies before finally going into sets of punches and kicks. At first I was lucky to throw up less than three times a day before finally my body grew used to the exercise again. It took me a month before I went a day without vomiting but I had never felt better when I got through it. I felt stronger and more capable that I'd ever felt before, and that gave me back the confidence I'd lacked all those years ago when I was rejected by Dimitri and then tortured by Nathan.

.

I took my food and sat at a table by myself, silently picking at my food as quiet murmurs filled the room. Most of the people here had fought together or been paired with each other in training, thus creating a bond that I didn't share with the rest of them. For some reason, though I was thankful, Wyatt had kept me separate to the rest of the students here.

"You know, you're actually meant to eat the food, or are you starving yourself again?" I glanced up with a masked expression of rage that he wouldn't be able to see through.

"Thanks for the tip," I said back calmly. Sean, the one I had pounded on during training, was one man that especially hated me when I got here. He had a few inches taller than me, chiseled cheek bones that—if I didn't hate him—I'd grudgingly admit were amazing, with blue eyes, fair skin and lean muscle. I was bitchily happy that I'd managed a couple bruises on his stupid cheeks and jaw. He loved nothing more than his own reflection and I took great pleasure in ruining that for him.

"Belle, Sean, Mike, Layla, Leon and Beau; you're all free tomorrow." I let a brief grin lift the corners of my mouth, nodding thankfully at Wyatt before he exited. Tomorrow was Sunday, and every month a group of people get a free day where they get to travel to the closest town, with whatever amount of money they have left on them, and do what they want, so long as they're back for training by Monday lunch. I tended to spend this time searching for information on Nathan and the Strigoi, despite the fact that we were meant to keep together. I'd been paired with Sean once before and hadn't been able to get any searching done as he'd refused to take his eyes off of me. That was the weekend I'd begun to hate him. My first outing, after I'd finally finished doing a day's training without throwing up.

"Guess you're stuck with me again tomorrow," he gave me a sardonic grin before picking his tray of food back up and going to sit with Beau, Leon and Mike. I noticed most of them looking back at me with disdain, annoyed at having to spend their day off with me. I rolled my eyes, standing up and dumping the food in the bin before placing my tray on the stack and leaving in a calm huff.

Instead of heading to the showers, like I probably needed, I grabbed the phone I'd gotten on my first outing, along with the headphones I'd (thankfully) had stashed on me when Wyatt set my duffle alight. I headed out to the large track, placed my headphones in to listen to my running track of _Rise Against _and _The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus_. I found that listening to the old songs of my angst-y childhood that Lissa and I used to obsess over helped me run, helped me get some of the days anger out.

"Belle!" I briefly heard. I wasn't sure how long I'd been running, but it had been a while for the twenty songs to finish and begin again. "Belle!" I stopped as I crashed into a body, stumbling back from the impact and blinking, refocusing my eyes onto the present.

Wyatt huffed in annoyance, pulling the headphones from my ears before I noticed Sean standing ways away, arms crossed and glaring at me.

"Sean's private lesson is starting, I need you off the track." Wyatt did this thing with each student where we all had a private training session, so that he could focus solely on us to fix any moves we weren't doing correctly. Sometimes he doubled as a shrink and spoke to us instead. Wyatt was there for us all, a make shift Yoda, if you will.

"Right," I puffed, trying to control my breathing. "I'll just," I pointed to the showers, watching his lips twitch as I pushed past Sean, despite the fact that there was complete open space around him to walk around. I wasn't lying when I said I hated him. He's been giving me hell since the very beginning and I almost refused to give it back. In a way I didn't see the point, taking comfort in the fact that he was insulting a girl that wasn't really me; a girl that had been created for me. In the same way, a part of me had been convinced that _I was Belle_. That this wasn't just a name and identity that he's given me because I put all the finishing touches in this persona myself.

After finishing in the showers, the cool water allowing me to relax the muscles in my back, I headed back to the girls sleeping quarters.

Lined on each side of the long rectangular room was eight beds pushed against the wall. After constantly tripping on the chests at the end of each bed in the middle of the night, I'd moved mine beside it as I'd chosen the bed against the wall, I didn't have a neighbor bugging me to move it. This way it also doubled as a place to put any of my pocket items at night, for example my phone.

I lay down on the stiff bed, arms resting over my stomach as I shut my eyes, trying not to alert anyone that I was using the bond, for example Adrian—who can see it when it's being used—as I slipped into Lissa's head. It seemed that it's been the same as almost every other night I've checked in. At this point in time, she was hunched over a mountain of paper work. Some of it was related to the Moroi learning magic, the other half, tucked into a neat folder that was open, had my name scribbled on the top. I could see the notes that Nathan had been sending me tucked in there, along with some receipts and other things. I guessed that she was trying to find a paper trail to Nathan; doing exactly what I was trying to do. Only I had a feeling that it was more for a vengeful reason.

"_Lissa, babe, come to bed," I saw through Lissa's eyes as she didn't meet her boyfriends' gaze. _

"_In a minute, just let me finish signing these." She responded, distractedly. _

"_No, now, it's almost one in the morning," and he walked over, taking the pen out of her hand and closing the lid before pulling her up by her hands as she protested. _

"_Just come to bed. Running yourself into the ground isn't going to help her. It's not what She would have wanted." Pain hit me through the bond, but Lissa bobbed her head along to what he said, following her boyfriend up and through to their bedroom. _

I pulled out of her head, sighing and rolling onto my side, stake in hand and pressed under the pillow as I allowed my back to face the room. I allowed myself the pleasure of falling asleep, exhausted after the long day.

.

"Belle, get up, we have to get ready." Somebody kicked the end of my bed. I sat up with a start, stake in hand before sighing when it was only Layla, the short blonde shoving her hair up into a bun on top of her head. She raised an eyebrow before repeating her message. I dragged a hand down my face before nodding my thanks for the wakeup call.

I grabbed my clothes and toiletries out of the brown chest before following Belle to the showers. Unlike last night, I allowed the steaming hot water to erase the nightmares that haunted me constantly. I doubted they'd ever stop, not until I did.

With only one pair of shorts, one pair of jeans and two different shirts, the rest being training gear, our weekend clothes were limited. The first time I went out, with my duffle bag having been lit on fire, I'd had to go in some of the clothes one of the other girls had left behind. They were still unsure as to whether she was killed of just left without telling anyone. Nobody was really inclined to find out anyway.

I'd pulled my black, high-wasted, shorts and the tight black crop top on, along with the tan ankle boots I owned. This was essentially the clothes that Wyatt had found me in, however the shorts I'd bought a while back. I grabbed my black leather jacket, this one I'd stolen from some jackass that tried to mug me on my second outing. He'd kept the cash of his mugged victims in an inside pocket and I thanked him for the donation.

I stashed my weapons in the places I could, a stake in my jacket and a tiny pocket knife in my boot. The pocket knife wouldn't do anything to a Strigoi, but stab it in one of their eyes and they'll feel it.

"Ready to go?" Layla had just finished dressing. Her taste was a bit different to mine. Just like Wyatt, she had this thing for thick sweaters and jeans, even in the summer. I wondered if our roles should be reversed. Layla had flawless skin while mine was marred with the scars given to me by Nathan. In a different world where beautiful people would believe in themselves and the marred ones covered up, she'd be wearing my outfit and I'd been wearing hers. However, our own sense of beauty was always messed up, right?

Don't get me wrong, I knew that I was still good-looking. Scars were nothing but a story of your past, however, it also showed a sign of baggage that most just didn't want to deal with. I wondered if that was partly the reason nobody here spoke to me.

"Yeah, just let me put my things back, I'll meet you at the car." She nodded, giving a brief smile as I headed back to our rooms, placing my things in the chest before grabbing my phone, headphones and wallet with my fake ID.

I looked at the photo briefly. It was the photo of me after Wyatt had changed me and my hair. With my hair having been at chin length, there was not much he could do with it but cut and colour. So it had turned into an angled bob that wouldn't get in the way and dyed the same colour Rihanna had in 2010. The upkeep was annoying, but I liked it overall.

"Took you long enough," Sean grunted as I made it to the car, despite the fact that we were still waiting for Leon and Beau.

"If I actually cared I'd bother to insult you," I said, face void of expression as I patted the side of his face, stepping past him and getting into the front seat. It seemed that out of all of us, I was the only one with an actual license, despite, technically, being the youngest. I suppose if you've grown up in an academy it was a bit hard to get it, however I took that two year break that gave me the time to.

There were only three cars at the Institution, one was Wyatt's and the other two were reserved for travel like this, or emergencies. I rolled my eyes as Sean got into the passenger seat, arms stiff as he crossed them over his chest. As the rest filed in, I plugged my phone in to the carjack, allowing my music to flow through the car.

"Bon Jovi? Bryan Adams, are you kidding me?" he groaned, having picked up my phone to scroll through the playlist. He then gave me the deepest of 'are-you-fucking-kidding-me' looks as he showed me the songs, "The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus? Now I know that you're joking." I rolled my eyes, grabbed the phone back off of him.

"The driver chooses the music and shotgun shut his cakehole," I quoted Dean Winchester, noticing Sean raise one eyebrow in almost reluctant acceptance.

"Quoting Supernatural is a low I didn't think you'd stoop to," he said, but didn't say anything more about my choice in music, even bobbing his head to a couple of songs on the hour long journey to the city we were to go to.

It wasn't very big, but still quite populated, with a cinemas and a shopping strip. By the time we arrived it was eleven, and the guys were thinking about seeing a movie.

"What do you say?" Mike looked at me, beefy arms pulled behind his back. He was huge, like…Dwayne Johnson 'The Rock' huge. He was quite intimidating, but like most of the people here I'd already scoped out their weaknesses. His, quite obviously, was his size and lack of speed when it came to a fight. Not to mention he was too merciful. He asked question before he fought, liked to have noble reasons when he did so. While it was honorable, it was also pointless to me.

"A movie? I think I'd rather shop for a bit, saw a book store that I'd like to hit." I excused, mainly just wanting to go around and hit the library, to look up to see if any Royal family deaths had happened just yet. When they did, when they connected into the Strigoi, it would be time to prepare to fight back. I wasn't sure how just yet, but I hoped I'd know when the time came.

"We'll go do that after, how about you come with us." Sean said, staring down his stupid nose at me. I pursed my lips, biting my tongue quite literally before sighing.

"Fine, we'll go see a movie." He _hmphed_ in success and I refrained from punching him in the face. Stupid prick.

After an excruciatingly long movie that involved more killing and death than I wanted to see, after all I'd seen it a good portion of my life, we moved onto different things. Layla really wanted to go shopping before they shut.

"Didn't you want to go to the book store?" Sean asked as Layla begged them.

"You guys go, I can handle myself." I tried not to snap at him. Sean scoffed, turned to the others and told them that we'd meet them back at the car when the shops shut before turning back to me, a perfect eyebrow raised in challenge.

"Well, let's go." I didn't mean to, I really didn't, but I may have stomped my feet just a bit harder than normal as I headed to the library.

"Thought you said bookstore?" he muttered as we entered, him looking completely out of place. He shuffled, shoving his hands into the back of his blue jeans before removing them, pulling the front of his plaid shirt to fix it, before repeating the process multiple times as I headed to the back computers.

"Yeah, well, I changed my mind," I growled, grabbing his hands in mine as he went to tug at his shirt again, "stop it! Just sit down and be quiet or something." I snapped, for the first time showing actual annoyance. He seemed to have taken that in stride, a smirk widening his features as he sat beside me.

I logged onto the computer, immediately heading onto Google. I'd been so used to this by now that I knew what to type in, however I had never gotten any results.

_2013: Conta family deaths. _

However, for the first time since I started researching, it came up with many different results. It must have been the look on my face, the fury felt anew, that made Sean sit forward, the smugness before wiped clean when he looked at the research. He looked between me and the computer screen before befuddlement became his main emotion.

"What are you doing?" I didn't answer, reading every article I could fine, to find some sort of lie before I settled on one thing; out of the entire family, there'd been one lone survivor. The family hadn't been huge, 40 people at most. However, it was one ten year old kid, Lily, which had managed to survive the carnage by running to their neighbor's house in the middle of the night while the rest of her family was being killed.

I shook my head before typing in the next name, my throat choking up as I changed the search to _2013: Ozera family deaths. _Thankfully, other than a few obituaries from distant relatives of completely normal old age deaths, and a few articles about Christian's missing parents, there was nothing new to find. I let out a sigh of relief, mainly for Christian, knowing that despite the tough face he would be upset to know the rest of his family would be gone, even if they had turned their backs on him.

I pulled out the little slip of paper in my pocket, crossing out the Conta family name before writing on the back the small piece of information I'd found. Out of both families, there was only one survivor each. Out of the Badica family, only a seven year old boy names James had been found unscathed. I tried to piece together the reason _why _only one kid from each family was surviving, but couldn't think of anything. Not to mention, with Lissa still being hunted and Christian's family being next, I worried for their safety. I wondered if it was time to get back into contact with them before shaking my head.

I wasn't yet ready. I needed to find all the information I could about this before I did anything stupid and brash.

I logged out and deleted the computer history despite the fact that I was sure they did that themselves before making sure I had the slip of paper and walked out of the library, Sean hurrying to follow.

"What was that about?" he snapped, walking behind me and pointing in the direction of the library.

"Well, it was a whole load of none of your business," I bit out between clenched teeth without glancing in his direction. I headed into the book shop, him continuously asking questions as I browsed, my stubborn determination to not get into trouble with Wyatt being the only thing that stopped me from punching him. He was quiet as I paid for the books I'd bought, reading material I desperately needed to keep sane, before continuing back to the car.

I was shocked as Sean gripped me, swinging me into an alleyway before shoving me against a wall. The rough, cold texture of the brick wall triggered the flashback of leaning against the cave wall during my time of capture. Triggered the flashback of big brown eyes and a dimpled smile that I'd never get to see again.

"Get. Your. Hand. Off of. Me." I bit out, eyes flashing dangerously, which he stupidly ignored.

"I want answers. Why are you looking up the deaths of the royal Moroi?" his eyes searched my face, hands clasping the front of my leather jacket as he used his body weight to pin me against the wall. Besides me, Sean was one of the best fighters at the institution, probably one of the reasons we didn't get along, with the competitive tension between us.

"That's none of your business," I tried to close my eyes and count to ten, but the anger was getting harder to control.

"Are you in on it? Are you helping them kill Moroi?" that was the peak of my anger. I knocked his hands off, spinning our position so that I was now pushing him against the wall. I pulled my fist back, but instead of letting my knuckles collide with his face, I let an open palm slam the wall beside him. He flinched slightly, allowing me back the control that I'd lost.

"I don't care what you insult me with but never,_ never_ assume that I'm on the side of Strigoi. I will and have given up _everything _that had ever been important to me just to get rid of them!" I snapped, both of us stood, glaring at each other, our breaths coming out in huffs.

"Uh…are we interrupting something?" came a voice from the entrance of the alley. I stepped away from Sean, however the anger and distrust that I'd seen in his eyes had evaporated slightly. With a stiff nod to me, to acknowledge that he'd believed me, he turned and headed towards where the others stood, hands full with a few bags, shuffling awkwardly.

Neither of us bothered to respond as we headed to the car. As per tradition, we placed any bags we had in the back of the car before heading to _Murphy's_, an old-ish bar. It was the type that college kids would frequent for their choices of beer and peanuts, to catch up and watch football on the TV in the corner. For us it was just a good place to have a couple of drinks before heading home.

Tonight it didn't exactly happen like that, because after a few rounds of drinks, and the promise to leave the minute the slight buzz wore off, three Strigoi entered the bar, heading for a booth on the opposite side. Everyone, bah me, stiffened. Sean looked at me in confusion as I smirked. It was time to get the information I needed.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter three

Quietly, Mike whispered that we should probably go now. Wyatt had set strict instructions for us to not fight any Strigoi unless absolutely necessary. I shook my head and they stared at me in confusion.

"I need to speak to them, need to know something," they looked at me as if I was insane.

"What could you possibly ask them? Not to mention, uh, _how_?" Leon snapped, fists clenched. He was one that hadn't been in great control of his temper from the beginning. I looked at Sean instead.

"I need to know," I said slowly, hoping he'd understand. His eyes widened in recognition before narrowing.

"You think they know something?" I raised an eyebrow.

"I think that the deaths only happened an hour or so away and it wouldn't hurt to find out." He bit his lip, the others staring between us.

"How do you plan on doing that?" and then I grinned, because I had something they didn't.

"By pretending to be exactly what they want," I took the wide black cotton choker I'd kept secured around my throat for when I went out, tilting my head slightly to show the bite marks that had never properly healed, still visible in the light. It'd be easy to show off, so long as I got my acting right.

"You can't exactly just walk up to them and ask about it, now can you?" our hushed voices were not heard by the Strigoi who looked to be in a heated debate about something.

I let a rare grin show on my face, making sure it looked heated and drunk before I pinched my cheeks red "All I-," I paused to hiccough, "want is another beer!" I said, words slurring and voice probably louder than intended, but that was the point. Sean suddenly leant back, impressed look on his face as he nodded, as if saying 'not bad' through the raise of his eyebrows. He made a motion with his hand to go for it and I giggled, allowing the act to sweep over me.

While I used to get drunk all the time at the Academy, sometimes acting was the only thing that stopped me from being hurt, the moment of surprise it gave, and sometimes it just allowed me the excuse of doing the things I wouldn't have otherwise. Not to mention I'd had a reputation to uphold.

I stood, pretending to stumble with the empty jug that had held beer, as I walked to the counter. Thankfully the bartender had been on the side closest to the Strigoi. While it was rare, some Dhampir's had been known to change sides to become a 'dirty blood whore.' These were the people that got addicted to the bite, to the euphoria of it, especially during sex. A small part of me had become addicted back when I ran away with Lissa, without the sex part of course, something that had come to light when I'd been kidnapped, along with my friends Mason, Christian, Eddie and Mia. They'd come to realize that, while I'd been begging for them to bite me instead of Eddie, it wasn't just for the sake of being a hero. They'd realized that deep down, in a shameful, dirty part of me I'd_ wanted _it.

While listening into the conversation that the Strigoi held, I sat myself down on a stool and held the jug out, batting my eyelashes and smiling dopily at the bartender. He sighed, taking the jug and going to fill it up.

"—just listen! If we do it family at a time it'll strike fear. You know how she wants it to be done, if we stray away from the plan she'll kill us!" one of the Strigoi had muttered, but without looking I couldn't tell.

"But with the Moroi learning offensive magic, it'll only be a matter of time before we lose. I say all of the groups strike once, take care of all the families _now_," I'd heard enough…that and the bartender was back. The anger had flooded me and I knew that I needed to do something about it. I couldn't, _wouldn't_, let them get away. It's not in my nature and never has been.

"Listen, can I ask you something?" I continued to slur my words, stumbling off of the stool, just to catch the attention of the Strigoi.

"What?" the bartender did not look like he had time for me, even though the bar was practically empty.

"You're, like, a bartender, and I know that they tend to know where all the good shit is…" I stared at him expectantly, and he just raised an eyebrow.

"Listen, this isn't that kind of establishment," he went to continue but I cut him off, tilting my head to the side and knowing that the Strigoi caught site of the bite marks.

"I know, I know, I just…I went through something and the stuff they did was _so good_, but then they stopped giving it to me and I just need some new stuff…it's not like you have to hand it to me, just…can you tell me where to get it from?" my words were rushed and stumbled over, trying to seem like it was something that I _really needed_.

"Like I said, this isn't that kind of establishment," I huffed, pouted but nodded, about to stand up and walk away when one of the Strigoi were beside me, one cold hand on mine as he grinned down at me. I pretended to be surprised, eyes widened considerably before a lustful, dazed expression fell over my face. In a way, it sickened me that I almost didn't even have to act like I wanted it, because that part of me that had been addicted missed the feeling of euphoria.

"I think I have what you need," I bobbed my head enthusiastically, clutching on the arm that was closest to me, pressing my body against his.

"Yes, yes, please," I whimpered. He chuckled, the brown contacts finally dissolving to show his red irises.

"Follow us," he chuckled, glancing back at his extra friends before pulling me along. We walked until the nearest alleyway, where they pushed me against the wall. It was quick, suddenly it was just one of them there, holding me down, and then two, both of their heads tilted, fangs elongated and brushing my neck. A part of me wanted to just close my eyes, to accept the bite and fall into bliss for a bit. The other part, fueled by anger, grabbed the stake in my jacket and slammed it through the side of one's body, twisting it through the gap of his ribs before he fell down. The other one that hadn't been pinning me was quickly staked by Mike before I grabbed the other one, in his shock he hadn't reacted. I flipped him over, throwing him to the ground before pinning him, the side of his face smashed into the pavement and my silver stake poised over his heart, digging in and daring him to move.

"Listen here and listen good, I want you to tell me who's orchestrating the kills and I want you to do it now," the Strigoi huffed, arms going to push me off before Sean had them held, pinning them above the Strigoi's head as he stared at me, as if making sure that I knew what I was doing.

"Make me," he hissed, which wasn't the answer I wanted. I sighed, shaking my head before I ripped his shirt open, very slowly dragging the sharp point of the steak down his chest. His howl echoed around and I knew that we didn't have long.

"I want you to know that your kind has tortured me, betrayed me, turned people I knew into dicks like you and is the reason I'm here today. There will not come a day when I am not hunting your kind down and killing them because, honey, I've already died once and it's not as scary as people make it out to be, so listen carefully," I leant into face, making sure he stared into my eyes, to see that I held no fear of him or any of his kind, "whatever you and the little army of undead fucks want to throw at me…bring it." I pushed the stake into his heart. His eyes widened and I got a sick pleasure from watching the light fade from his eyes. It was silent for a long while before I got up from my straddled position, ignoring the looks I was getting.

Dumpsters were the best creation, able to hold three dead bodies for a sloppy hide before we headed back to the car. Without my music playing, it was a silent drive.

"We need to clear something up before we go back, as Wyatt is going to want to know. He needs to know," Beau said, for the first time all day.

"What's that?" I asked through clenched teeth, hands tightening on the steering wheel.

"How much does Wyatt know about you searching for the Strigoi who are killing the Moroi families?" I glanced back in the rear view mirror, slightly shocked that he knew what I'd been talking about.

"All of it, it's why he's training me," he nodded before, after a while, Sean spoke up.

"How'd you get the bites?" he didn't look at me as he said it and I wondered how much I could say.

"I'm not a blood whore, if that's what you're thinking. It was a do or die situation, my friend, Moroi, didn't have any other way of feeding and I wasn't going to let them die. So I let them feed off of me," I made sure to not use any gender specific pronouns, just to be sure that I wasn't letting anything else away. After a stiff nod from him, the rest of the drive was silent.

.

By the time we made it back to the institution, the tension had lowered only to come back full force with the realization that we'd need to tell Wyatt what had happened. We were all suddenly glancing at each other with the realization that we'd _disobeyed_. Other students had done less and were kicked out. I steeled my nerves, all of us taking our bags to our rooms before silently meeting up out the front of Wyatt's room. It was Layla who had gathered enough courage to knock on his door.

It opened with a creek, one heard in every horror movie ever, and Wyatt stood there. He took one look at our guilty or blank expressions before his face was controlled into a mask that would conceal all of his emotions.

"Cafeteria, now." I knew that by this time it would have been shut and locked, dinner well and truly over.

All of us, again in silence, grabbed some chairs and sat down in front of where Wyatt sat, facing us.

A few minutes of silence went by, "is someone going to tell me what happened?"

"We attacked and killed some Strigoi," Beau said. I felt like shit. They were going to get into trouble because I couldn't be patient. I felt like I'd just thrown every bit of Wyatt's training down the drain.

"How many?" if you hadn't spent a lengthy amount of time with Wyatt, you wouldn't be able to tell that he was pissed off. However, the way his breathing was controlled, every one of his movements made to _look like _he was in control showed us all that we really were in trouble.

"Three," I was glad that Beau had taken over this little speech because I wasn't sure I could handle it just yet.

"Why?" Beau glanced at Sean and me for a moment, brows furrowing briefly before turning back to Wyatt. Beau had no idea why Sean had let me do it but he was going to stick up for his mate, I knew this and it made me feel even more like crap. I was a metaphorical pile of shit right now.

"They came into the bar we were in, we couldn't let them leave." He shrugged one shoulder but we all knew that it was a stupid excuse. We'd all seen Strigoi out and about on our free days and we've let them go.

"Whose idea was it?" but he turned to stare at me, like he knew it was mine.

Sean sat up straighter, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye, "mine." My eyes widened in shock. If anything, I'd expected him to turn me in. Wyatt's eyes widened faintly in surprise before he schooled his mask again.

"No it wasn't, don't lie for me," I snapped at him before turning back to Wyatt, "it was mine, he's just being a dick." Sean bristled at the insult, ready to send a jab back before Wyatt raised his hand.

"Everyone but Sean and Belle leave," when they hesitated, "Now!" was growled. They left quickly after that, giving us apologetic looks and comforting, tight-lipped smiles. I found that they weren't comforting at all, oddly enough.

"What. Happened?" he said slowly as if we were stupid. I sighed very slightly, shoulders slumping.

"The Conta family has been killed, all but one girl." I said in a way of explanation.

"What does that have to do with the Strigoi you killed? Are you going back to your old ways? Murdering and killing without thought as to what you're doing? We don't hunt, R-Belle, we _guard_." He snapped. I bit my tongue just in time to control my anger before shaking my head, ignoring the almost slip of my old name.

"I listened in on their conversation. They were talking about attacking all the families at once, now that the Moroi were learning magic, now that they could protect themselves. They said something about groups—groups of Strigoi. I had to do it, had to get rid of one of them. I hope that it slows them down just a bit. If they're going family at a time, maybe, just maybe, we can stop them before they start on the Ozera's." Wyatt closed his eyes, taking in the information before shaking his head.

"We can't do it like that, Belle. _You know this_! If we start attacking like that, than we're just as bad as them." I glared at him.

"How can you say that? How can you say that it would make us just like them! They murder to feel satisfied, to be stronger and more powerful, they murder _innocents_. What we do is kill those that have no soul."

"But aren't you doing the same thing? You kill them to feel better in yourself, and when I found you _you were _murdering to become more powerful, to be more skilled. They were innocent before they were turned, the majority were." I bit my lip, nose flaring and fists clenched. I wasn't. I wasn't a murder…was I?

"It's not the same." I snapped, standing and storming out of the cafeteria. On the upside, I'd never lost my flare for dramatics. Hell, I wondered if, when I died (properly), I could convince them to stuff my coffin with glitter and confetti and make it explode as they begin to lower me down. Nothing like limbs and confetti to rain down on you to make it a memorable experience.

When the others fell asleep that night, I got up and packed. Soft snoring filled the room. Sadly, I still only had a duffle bag of items. While it made it easier for me, at the same time I was upset that this was what my life had moved down to. Living out of a duffle bag and, again, having nowhere to go.

As I headed out of the room, I took a quick glance back before sighing. All of them were still in their beds, sleeping. Well…not all, some were on patrol, but that was only two girls out of us all.

"Oh, thank Christ, I thought you wouldn't be coming and that would have been awkward." I jumped out of shock, spinning around to see Sean and Mike sitting on their duffle bags against the 'electric' fence. It was never turned on, without the electricity on we just hoped it would scare off anybody trying to jump it.

"What are you doing?" I snapped as he stood, bag slung over his shoulder, just like mine was. He smirked wryly, in a way that told me he didn't exactly want to come with me, but felt obligated.

"Figured you'd start running again, thought you could use some company." my scowl and hatred deepened for him.

"I'm not running, I'm fighting back."

He grinned, "Well that's good; because once you start running you can't ever stop."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter four

With the threat of following me even if I didn't let them come with, Mike and Sean were allowed to join with the promise to not question me too much. However, Sean being Sean broke that rule the minute we headed to a diner, not having actually eaten.

I groaned, picking at my pancakes as he rambled on. "It's going to be easier if you just tell us how you're connected with all of this." Was how it started, and then he began to guess, "You know a Strigoi involved? Someone you love was turned?" he continued, staring at me intently to see if I had a 'tell' that would give it away. After ten minutes, Mike beginning to rub his temples and looking at me pleadingly. To save both of us from the torture, I finally reached over, grabbed the back of his head and slammed it onto the table. He let out a groan, sitting up and holding his head in his hands. Despite the concern quickly pulling his eyebrows down, Mike's lips twitched in amusement.

"If you don't shut up I'm going to rip your throat out," I paused for affect, "with my teeth." And hoped I'd delivered it with the same amount of intimidation as the guy did on the show that I watch. I guessed I did because Sean glared at me but petulantly pouted, sulking in silence but not daring to speak.

"We'll stay in a motel tonight, I'll figure out what to do from there." They both nodded in agreement. I was silent the rest of the meal, lost in my thoughts as to whether or not what Wyatt said was true. I remember thinking not that long ago, that actively seeking out Strigoi and killing them was cruel. I'd once believed just what Wyatt did, that the majority of Strigoi did not choose to be this way. They were turned, bitten, with loved ones that suffered from their loss. And here I was killing them, going out of my way to just put even more blood on my hands than I had before. With a sudden realization, I noticed that even with these thoughts there was no guilt. No feeling sorry for what I was doing. Why should I? If anything, killing the Strigoi was doing them a favour. They would no longer be the soulless beings that I doubt they ever wanted to be. Maybe I was being a murderer, a killer, but this was saving more lives than sitting around and waiting for them to attack ever would. Because of that, I couldn't find it in myself to care.

.

The motel room that we'd booked had two single beds and a chair in the corner. I'd taken the chair, simply because I knew that I didn't sleep much. Sean was a bastard, even more so than normal, when he didn't have a comfy place to lay his head. Mike tried to dissuade me, but I'd persuaded him with the fact that he wouldn't even be able to move in the chair and I'd be much more comfortable than him.

"Belle, you have to trust us at some point though, you know that right? We won't be leaving you to fight by yourself…Sean might, but I doubt it, I think." Mike's head tilted to the side to think about it before, "What I mean, is that we'll be fighting side by side with you, and we need at least some of the truth." I didn't respond to him, instead taking my clothes and heading to the shower as Sean walked out, sweat pants slung low on his hips and towel wrapped around his head.

"Nice look," I scoffed, missing the slight blush as he lay down in his bed, rolling his eyes.

.

By the time I got back out, the both of them were in the bed, but not asleep. I sighed, sitting on the edge of the chair gingerly, running my own towel through my hair, just to busy my hands with something.

"I knew someone who was affected by it," both men sat up further in the bed, as if having expected the conversation. I'd thought about what to say to them while in the shower, knowing I didn't trust them enough with my identity just yet.

They didn't respond, giving me their attention without speaking, "Have you ever heard of Mia Rinaldi?" they frowned, shaking their heads, "Didn't think so. She's not of royal Moroi blood, but her mother was a housekeep for the Badica family that was attacked during the Christmas break. I was at that Ski Lodge, and while Mia and I kind of hated each other, I was getting along with Adrian Ivashkov who was becoming friends with them. He told me what had happened, and that the night Mia had found out, her along with two other boys had left to go find the Strigoi that had done it. It turns out that Rose Hathaway and Christian Ozera followed them, trying to find them. They'd been kidnapped, but later, through Adrian, I found out that Rose had found a mark of 12 letters in the supposed Strigoi tunnels, one letter having been crossed out. She figured out that the one that had been crossed out, the 'B' stood for Badica." Their eyebrows raised, this information had never been released to anybody but the Queen. She who, when told, had refused to do anything about it.

"I've lost people due to what's happening and I plan on hunting these monsters down and ending it once and for all."

"Then why are you hiding?" Sean interrupted and I glanced up at him.

"That's private," I snapped before wincing, knowing that I was becoming much too defensive. "All I mean is that I'm hiding for a reason. We all are, aren't we?" they didn't respond, but I could see that they agreed, "I don't know why you are, and I don't need to know nor want to. To be quite frank, I don't care. What I do care about, however, is finding these fucking Strigoi and killing them because it seems like nobody else will do it. I need to know that you are in if you're coming. And I mean fully in, with no regrets and no backing out later when it gets tough, and it will get tough. If not, you can go back to the institute or wherever you please and I won't judge you for it, understood?"

"Afraid we can't handle the heat in the kitchen?" Sean smirked, normal arrogance returning.

"I just don't want to hear you cry when you get burnt," I said with false care. His smirk straightened into a thin line before he flopped back onto the bed, Mike at least giving me a smile and a nod before doing the same thing. I rubbed my hands over my face, content to stop thinking just for a night and go to sleep.

.

When I woke up, both men were still asleep and I was hungry. Checking my phone, I noticed that it wasn't even seven in the morning yet. Still, I pulled some trainers on, grabbed my phone and wallet and headed to the café I'd seen not long before. I grabbed two take away coffees and a tea, along with some bagels and savory muffins. By the time I got back to the motel I noticed that the boys were up, sounding incredibly disgruntled, mind you.

I pushed the door open before standing in shock. They looked over at me, Sean mightily pissed.

"Where were you?" he snapped. Confused and in shock, I held up the tray of drinks and bags of food.

"Breakfast run," both of them deflated a bit, an embarrassed look overcoming them slightly. The pieces clicked, "wait, you actually thought I'd leave you two here? I'd run, without my bag?" that look of embarrassment deepened. I shook my head and laughed.

"Well, you didn't exactly want us to come with you, now did you?" Sean bit out, arrogance not allowing him to look embarrassed for too long. I scoffed, handed them their coffees before grabbing my muffin.

"You both need to calm down, fact is you were right, I need an extra set of hands. I'm not going to lose two great fighters just because I'd rather fight alone." They both sagged, finally accepting it.

"Now that that's settled, I know what we're doing today."

.

Arriving on the door step of the police station was odd, more than just odd. It had taken a bit of digging on the internet to find just where they were holding Lily Conta, but I tried not to look too nervous.

"Mike, I think it'd be best if you waited outside." I winced, both Sean and him staring at me in shock. "Not anything offensive, but this girl is ten years old and her entire family just died…and not going to lie, but you look scary as hell." He looked disheartened but nodded, going back to lean against the wall.

"That was rude," Sean chastised.

"Funnily enough, I don't care," I kind of did though.

The police woman at the front desk didn't look like she was having the best day, bored out of her mind, in fact.

"Hi, my names Belle Whitmore, I was wondering if it'd be possible to speak to Lily Conta." I wasn't sure how any of this was meant to go down, what I was supposed to do or if they were going to pat us down for weapons. I hoped not.

"And you are?"

"Belle Whi—oh, you mean how I know her!" Sean scoffed and I elbowed him in the ribs, pretending to blush.

"I am—was—a friend of her parents. Leanne had helped me out a lot when I was younger and I was under the impression that all of Lily's family was gone…I just wanted to speak to her, to see if there's anything I can do." The police woman bought into the story, turning to look at Sean who seemed disgruntled about the elbowing.

"And who is he to you?" I had to think on my feet. He'd never pass for a brother, and anybody not related to me wouldn't get through, especially if Lily hadn't known him.

"That's Sean…my fiancée," with a slight of hand I swapped the fake diamond ring Lissa had given me from my middle finger to my ring one, showing it up and beaming as if I was proud.

"Yeah, Wedding can't come soon enough," he placed his hand on my hip, acting almost as well as me as he grinned, however his hand clutching my hip tightly almost made my wince in pain. Somebody didn't like the ruse.

"We will need Lily to confirm it first, to be sure. Come with me." She opened a gate for us and we headed through, lead to what looked like a waiting room or a lounge. There was clear glass there, where I saw a still, silent girl sitting on a couch. She looked so alone, almost like Lissa with her pale skin, tall height, platinum blonde hair and emerald colored eyes. She looked just as broken, maybe more so, as Lissa when her family had died.

The police woman told us to wait at the glass window, closing the door behind her.

"What do we do if Lily says she doesn't know us?" Sean whispered, standing close to me to not be overheard.

"Just have faith, and tell me is she sees this," I spun to face Sean, tilting my neck down slightly and lifting the back of my hair, acting like I was scratching my scalp but was really showing my molnija marks to her.

"She saw and she's nodding, I think she's pretending to know us." Sean muttered and I nodded, righting myself as the woman came out, motioning us through.

When the woman stood in the room, not too far away, I frowned. I wouldn't get anything out of the child if she didn't leave. "Can we speak to her alone?" after a nod from Lily, the woman left us.

I sat down in front of her, pulling up a chair. "I'd like to say sorry, but I know that when I lost people it just annoyed me," Lily nodded in thanks, looking much, much older than 10 years old.

"They keep doing that, saying sorry. They keep saying it and then telling me it'll get better," she looked up from her gloved hands, "but how would they know when their entire family isn't dead?"

It was silent for a moment before Sean spoke up, "we just wanted to know if we could ask you some questions. If you feel like you can't answer them, you won't have to."

"You're the first guardians to come speak to me, you know? Are you trying to catch the Strigoi that did it?" I nodded, shocked that we were the first. I knew that they were tightly guarded, but surely we couldn't be the first.

"Are you sure we're the first? That's…unlikely," I looked over at Sean and he looked just as confused as me.

"You're the first, I know a Dhampir when I see one," she snipped. I nodded, accepting her word for it. "What did you want to know?"

"Were there any signs that it was going to happen, do you know? Do you remember your parents or guardians on alert more than usual, maybe patrolling more frequently?" she thought quietly before shrugging.

"Sometimes when we were out they'd look…scared, almost? I don't know. Things did seem weird but they hide that sort of stuff from me," I nodded in understanding.

"What about when they attacked? Did you guys have wards up, or were there more than just Strigoi there?"

"We have wards up…I don't remember seeing anything other than Strigoi," she sucked in a breath and I placed a calming hand on her knee.

"I'm sorry, I know you don't want to relive it, but it would really help us to know how they got in and what they did." She nodded, pulling out an inhaler she puffed it before closing her eyes and nodding, hand shaking as she rested them in her lap.

"I was in my room, my dad was reading me a bedtime story when we heard a crash and yelling. My dad told me to hide in my hiding place. I could see the rest of the room, I watched as a Strigoi came in and hurt my dad. She was asking where I was, the Strigoi, but bit my dad because he wouldn't say. I tried to be quiet b-but I was crying and I think it heard me. She came over and pulled me out of the hiding place, but I'd stolen a silver stake from the guardians when they started acting weird and I'd put it in there. The guardians had killed the rest of the Strigoi, so when I stabbed her with it, nobody else came." I could tell that wasn't it, it wasn't it at all. The article had said that she'd been unconscious for a full day with no injuries to speak of.

"And?" Sean knelt beside her, placing his hand on hers, rubbing comforting circles with his thumb. She looked scared as she stared up at him.

"You won't believe me…" she whispered shakily. He stared her in the eyes, showing her that she could trust him.

"Try me."

"W-when I stabbed her, there was this bright light and I felt it…it was the feeling that mum and dad explained to me would happen when I was older, but I felt it. When I opened my eyes," she gulped again, "when I opened my eyes, she wasn't a Strigoi anymore…her eyes were blue and she was warm and-and she was begging for me to kill her," Sean and I were both in shock. And this was literal shock, eyes wide, muscles locked stiff and unable to process what she had just said.

Lily…_healed a Strigoi_?


End file.
